


Apocalyptic Affairs

by gee_oh_wilkers



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Erotica, F/F, F/M, I actually really enjoyed writing this, NSFW, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Smut, kinda kinky on the lowkey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gee_oh_wilkers/pseuds/gee_oh_wilkers
Summary: After stumbling alone in the post-apocalyptic state of Virginia, you came across a man. He had far too much confidence in his walk to not be settled somewhere remotely safe. Once he introduces himself as Rick Grimes, you are taken to a place called Alexandria. Will you be an outsider or an insider in the new life you lead in the city?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue chapter to the rest of the stories. This chapter is optional, and you may continue to Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Maggie, or Glenn. Enjoy~!

****"Hey! Hey, watch out!" You yelled violently, as you swung the stock of your rifle at the head of a skin eater approaching the man's back. He turned around in shock, realizing how close of a call that was. The man looked like he hasn't slept in years, or bathed. "Are...," You took a deep breath, trying to regulate your breathing pattern, "are you alright?" His hand retreated to the grip of his revolver, ready to shoot at any moment. "That's okay, you don't have to respond--"

"How long you've been following me for?" The way he asked made it sound more like a demand. "For about thirty or so minutes, I'm sorry you just seemed like you needed help as much I do." "And you couldn't have just spoken up?"

"That would've gone wrong. I had to make sure I wasn't following some psychopath..." You began to try and create small talk, "Although really we all are psychos considering how many people we've killed."

"They're not people," he emphasized the word 'not' with a roughness in the depths of his throat. The man then readjusted his stance, and sat his other hand on his waist. "What's your name?" You smirked and stuck your hand out, "Y/F/N." He looked at your hand as if signaling for you to put it away. You uncomfortably wrapped your hand around your other wrist in response.

"How many walkers you killed?"

You watched his eyes glance you up and down, they were startlingly blue. You were dazed by the deep color, it was like a swimming pool. You could barely remember the feeling of a swimming pool anymore, let alone the color, but you imagined it would be similar to him. It was almost something so beautiful you could fantasize over.

"How many walkers have you killed, Y/N."

You snapped from your thoughts quickly. "Uh, that is really too hard to count. I try not to kill them if it's avoidable, but if it comes in the way of my safety or others, they're goners." He then re-positioned his legs and looked deeper into your eyes as if he was searching for something. Maybe it was his piercing eye color that gave it that effect, or maybe he really was searching.

"How many people have you killed?"

"Two."

"Why."

'Why? How could he ask something so simple. Those-- they were people. There isn't anything simple about death.' You ground your teeth in angst, not really sure how to answer. It wasn't your fault-- it wasn't... It wasn't, right?

"Don't," you scratched the nape of your neck, "don't say that so coldly. They're people. I knew them."

The man approached you even more, the grip on the stock of his revolver grew tighter. "You're avoiding the question. Why did you do it." Your lip twitched, and you looked away. "They were going to hurt my kid. They were going to hurt me. I wasn't going to have that." Somehow in that statement, you saw a piece of human in him. Something must have flipped a switch in his heart.

His low, southern accent then danced around the next question you were sure to hear. Those three words. "Where's your kid?" If only you knew. If you knew, things would be different, wouldn't it? You wouldn't be wandering the middle of nowhere alone or afraid. You would have your child's life to look after. "Yeah, I-- I don't know."

His posture then loosened up, but his hand on his revolver did not move. Instead, his other hand grazed over the stumble on his chin. "Okay hands up." You did as he asked, almost like a reflex. In an instant, his hands rushed to your neck. You felt your heart jump at his touch, but you couldn't understand why. "U-uh", you croaked out, trying to muster anything to say, "whats-- whats your name?" 

"Rick Grimes."

"Nice to meet you Rick, I'm Y/N." Instantly, you cringed at yourself. As if the situation couldn't get worse, now you just introduced yourself twice to him. Great.

His hands then rushed to your arms, patting you down. Then to your chest. For a slight moment, his hand stayed at your heart, feeling the constant pounding below his fingertips. His hands quickly moved on, checking the rest of your body. For just that moment, you felt something you hadn't felt in ages. Swimming through his deep blues, being carried by one large wave from the tip of your heart to the very bottom of your stomach. You felt it, that goddamn feeling-- passion.

You were quick to avert your eyes from Rick's, not wanting to be sucked into his ocean any more than you could control. By the time you passed your breakthrough of buried feelings, he finished checking your body.

"Alright," he said. 

"Alright what?"

He then held the bottom of your dirtied flannel tied around your waist. "If you want to come with me, you're going to have to sacrifice this shirt of yours." You awkwardly laughed as you untied the arms of the shirt, "Y-yeah yeah please, seriously, take anything you want!" The outer corner of his lip creased like a smirk he didn't intend. He took the fabric swiftly from your hands almost in shame of his reaction. Rick tore off nearly two feet of fabric from the bottom of the flannel, then gave it back to you. He took you by the shoulders and put your back to face him. "I don't want to startle you, but I gotta blindfold you. I'm sure you can understand why." You nodded and closed your eyes as he tied the fabric around your eyes. It was still slightly visible which made you feel more safe.

He took your rifle into his right hand, and led you with his left. The walk felt like forever, but all you could do is hope that forever was worth it. It was uncomfortably quiet, but you were afraid to talk or ask questions.

"I'm sorry about your kid," he said shockingly. You couldn't believe he was actually showing emotion.

"Thanks, I, uh, I really appreciate it." You didn't want to share any details on your daughter, you knew you would get emotional on the spot. "How old were they?" Your voice cracked under pressure. "Barely even seven years old." You could hear Rick sharply inhale, seeming to not be able to comprehend the kind of loss. Back in the day, it wasn't common to lose a loved one at seven, but with times like now, any death at any age would make sense.

"Not to cut the conversation short, but we are here."

The sound of a rusty wheel rung in your ears, what exactly was this place? Then one voice-- no, two-- two voices yelled out! Two! That was more voices than you heard in almost a year. One talked about something being 'clear', the other said 'whats that?' which you assumed was aimed towards you. Quickly, you were rushed in.

The farther Rick moved you, more voices appeared. It was almost overwhelming. Knowing all these voices were owned by people meant that all these people were alive. It was so much to take in, but you would willingly take in more of it. Noises about your appearance were made, not if you were beautiful or ugly, but rather how you looked so beat up. It was odd. The last time you were in a crowd who focused solely on you, all that was commented on was whether or not you were considerably beautiful. The way this apocalypse took the world on certainly had heavy negative outcomes, but surprisingly good ones too.

You were then stopped, and Rick walked behind you. "I'm sorry, I almost forgot." He then took off the fabric from your face, the sudden brightness flooded your sight. As your eyes readjusted, you looked around. It was almost... God, it was almost like a Utopia. Beautiful, untouched...amazing. "This," your voice cracked while your hand grazed your mouth, "this is amazing."

Everyone's clothes were-- clean. There were houses, grass, trees, bushes! God, even crops and solar panels! It was so much to take in. All of it. "What is this?" You looked at Rick with tears filling the walls of your eyes. He smirked, "you'll find out."

You were then led to one of the many buildings lining the town. Going up flights of stairs, you were lead to a prestigious flat. The walls were decorated with degrees and literature from Universities. Looking further into the room there was a dinner table cloaked with notes and books. Clearly, the family took pride in their knowledge. Inside was an older woman, and then a young woman. They didn't look related, but then again, who knows. The old lady then approached you, "Oh, hello. Where did you find this young lady?" Rick smirked, "I guess you can say it was a good run." You gave a smile to her, knowing that was all you could offer. "What's your name?"

"I'm Y/F/N, I'm from Petersburg," you said. "Ah, a Virginian?" You shook your head yes. The old woman got up from her seat on the couch, across of the young lady. She then put her right hand and you shook it firmly. "Would you mind me filming an interview with you? Its a thing we do, we like to know who we are with."

You were first shocked that they had film cameras still, and you agreed quickly. Whatever they wanted, you would say yes to. They were offering you what seemed like a sanctuary. It was a good deal. "Maggie, would you?" The young woman, in response to the older woman, got up from the couch to fetch the camera. Rick then left, assuming his job here was done.

Maggie placed the camera in the old woman's hands, and gave you a sweet smile. She had skin that looked soft to the touch and brown hair that would tuck behind her ears. She was a plain sort of beautiful. The kind of beautiful you'd fall in love with. Her eyes met yours, and she left the room.

"Alright, please, take a seat if you don't mind," the old woman said.

You sat down in a rather lovely chair. It was cushioned in all the right places and had a black and white design. Very modern.

"How long have you been out there?"

You sighed, running a finger through your sweaty hair. "God, who knows by now. I've been scavenging for maybe two or three years. It's been a long time."

She then sat herself down infront of you on a long couch. "I am Deanna Monroe. I was a Congress person, Ohio district. You?"

"I was a college student until my child got sick, then I stayed home and tended for her. I was studying in the medical field, hoping maybe I could help her condition."

Deanna leaned forward, interested in your daughter. "Where is she now? Have you brought her with you?" Those words again; they are so sharp to hear that you felt pain. "She's gone. I'm not sure where anymore, she's just--" you took a fair moment to compose yourself. "She's just not in the picture anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N. I have my own children, I know I'd hate to lose them." As a quick subject change, probably to avoid seeing you cry, she decided to talk about Virginia. "Nothern Virginia was effectively evacuated. Millions of people...gone. For a long time, there's hardly been anyone here-- living or dead but still, we've lost people."

For a brief moment she paused, as if she was remembering those who she had lost. She continued, "It's refreshing to know someone survived with us." You nodded in agreement, but acknowledged that you had the upper hand in the apocalypse because you had medical supplies always ready for use. If your child wasn't so sick, you might have not been alive right now. Or maybe, just maybe, you  _and_ your daughter would be alive instead.

You furthered the conversation, asking what the place was. Apparently it was already being built before the outbreak, and people were told to move to here, Alexandria. The walls were made from pieces of a mall nearby, and that's how what the citizens used to live off of. But now, they were going on supply trips with Rick's group and Deanna's son. They were very well put.

After you and the mayor were finished talking, she walked you to the door. Before opening it, she stated, "I want you to help us survive. I know you can help us do that." You shook her hand, looking kindly into her old set eyes. "I will do what I can." She opened the door, than held your back, "check out our infirmary. I feel that you may find yourself at home there." You smiled at her once more, and softly offered a 'thank you'.

You walked slowly around aimlessly, not even sure where this infirmary was. Suddenly, you were greeted by a young man, with long black hair. He had very little facial hair lining his top lip and the tip of his chin. He had high cheek bones, and a warm smile to compliment his appearance. "So, you're the new one here right?" You nodded, "Yeah, I am Y/N. I guess I might be working the clinic now?" He laughed, and threw his left hand to the back of his head, combing through his hair. "I'm Glenn, and the infirmary is there." He pointed to the building literally right beside the one you just exited. "Oh," you chuckled shyly, "thank you."

"If you need any more help finding things, I'll be around somewhere."

You nodded, and felt his eyes follow you as you walked across the small road. You went inside the white building, and looked around. There was a kitchenette to your left, equipped with medical supplies on the counters. Straight ahead there was a study desk, and two hospital beds. There was a cabinet to your left that had what seemed like an endless supply of antibiotics. Not to mention the other seemingly had an endless supply of textbooks. It was a match made in heaven. 

You left the building knowing you would probably be spending a lot of time inside there. You went out onto the street, curious of who'd you would meet, and what else you'd find. Maybe Rick could show you around. Suddenly, a man in a sleeveless jacket came out. His hair was untamed, almost wild like. People here seemed well groomed in a way, so you came to the conclusion that his hairstyle was made by choice. Your voice cracked under your nerves, "do you, uh, do you know where Rick might be?"

His scratchy voice croaked out in reply, "check the house on the end of the street." "Okay," you said in response, only even more intimidated now. "I'm Y/N, I am the new doc I guess. Did you ever have one before?" Something must have flicked a switch on him, because his expression turned from grim to remorseful. His lips twitched, and he said spitefully, "yeah, we did." You started to wonder if he didn't like the other doctor, or even worse, maybe he didn't like you.

Before you could let him walk away, you asked, "whats your name?"

"Daryl."

He was quiet and peculiar. You really wanted to know more, but he didn't seem like he wanted to share. He looked at you almost in confusion, as if he was asking how you survived so long in this world. He turned away, and you did too, both heading in opposite directions. Just as Daryl said, you noticed Rick and another woman coming out of the last house. There was a long sword swung over her shoulder, or what looked like one anyway. The way she carried herself, the straight posture in her walk, the fact that she was wielding a sword; she was the definition of bad ass. 

Everyone in this town seemed greater than you, and maybe they were, but you knew you were the outsider and they didn't know your potential yet. Whether it was in medical knowledge or in physical strength, you had it. Just by those means, you had the potential to be a bad ass like that girl, or intimidating like Daryl, easy going like Glenn, kind eyed like Maggie, or even authoritative like Rick. All that they had to do was to get to know you better, and you were determined for that to happen.

 


	2. Daryl Dixon

After a few days of being the new doctor in town, you started to get to know all of the people on a more personal level, even Daryl. You didn't think it was possible, but it was. You weren't exactly friends yet, but you wore you 'acquaintances' label with pride. You were determined to change that, though. 

The first run of your residency at Alexandria was made on the third day, which Daryl insisted he were to go alone. You didn't understand why, but you couldn't exactly ask because 1.) the odds of him telling you were slim to none, and 2.) you were eavesdropping and really shouldn't have been where you were. You were in a closet across of the armory, holding a bar of chocolate. You thought you could have better chances getting close to people if you were to win them over with chocolate chip cookies. 

Rick and Daryl, however, were inside the armory, talking. Daryl was talking about taking guns and leaving temporarily, unsure of when he would come back. "--I need to find him--", a scratchy voice persuaded. The other voice, Rick, disagreed. "Not right now you don't. We need you--"

"--you don't know what he did--"

"--we are vulnerable right now, Daryl. We  _need_ you with us; just in case."

Daryl seemed to disagree, and told him he would have to go regardless, at which Rick finally gave in. Heavy, uneven footsteps trailed from the armory and out the door. As you peered through the white slates of the door, you watched Rick bring a hand over his five o'clock shadow, and look down.

Night drew near, and you were waiting behind a solar panel to catch Daryl on his way out. He undid the gate as quietly as he could, with a bag swung over his shoulder, and ran over to one of the cars. As the brunette opened the door, you noticed this could have been your last chance to talk to him. "Wait!" You called out, not too loud but not too quiet that he would ignore it and blame it on the wind. You ran over and looked at him, he was clearly ready to kill a person.

"You -- _jeez_ \-- where are you going?"

"Out," he said sharply, moving into the car and sitting down. "Can I go?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"What do you mean, no you can't go. This is my own business."

You then trailed you fingertips up the door frame, " _really_?" You scoffed, "then why did you get Rick involved?" Daryl suddenly got defensive, "how much did you hear," he said in a demanded tone. 

"Everything. You're going to kill him aren't you?" You said in a matter-of-factly kind of voice, even though you had zero clue who 'he' was. "You aren't supposed to know about that--" "And I won't know it, as long as you take me with you."

"What do you want, Y/N."

"This is going to sound like an excuse, but," you cleared your voice, "I just want to help. I know how to kill a man, and I will be willing to help you with it."

Something deep inside his heart made him want to turn you down, you weren't sure why, but he nodded. "Get in."

   
After closing the gate, you were off. You thought you were smart for convincing him, but apparently, he was just as smart as you. He took you on a run for goods instead, not for whoever this man he wanted to kill. "What?", you asked, looking around. "Is this where your guy is camped?" 

"No. We are on a run now because you."

You took your eyes off of the few skin eaters approaching the car and onto Daryl. He was gathering his gun and a gun for you, slinging the bag over his shoulder once more. "Because of me?" You laughed, "I was only trying to help you, Daryl!" His icy eyes then shot a glance at you, sending daggers into your heart. "You didn't do  _damn_ shit." He then left on pistol on his seat for you, slamming the door closed. You grabbed the gun, and stomped after him, dodging the few eaters that were coming towards you.

"You are acting really immature right now. I came out to help you and you don't even--" you scrambled over your words, trying to furiously string them together. "You-- you-- you don't-- you can't even acknowledge that without storming off like some toddler!"

He went through the swing-open doors of the strip mall, drawing his gun forward, looking for anything or anyone that posed a threat. His voice dropped to a loud whisper, "You don't understand a damn thing. What would you know about toddlers-- what do you know about me, acting like you think you know everyone just because you're a doctor and you're new."

You automatically slapped a hand at your forehead, squeezing tightly to your temples, "what do I fucking know about toddlers? Jeez, Daryl, not like I fucking raised one on my own-- and for what, for what," you scoffed, "for you to shit all over that title of me being a mother?! I did EVERYTHING I could for that girl and you have--"

Suddenly, he turned around and shot a bullet to the left of your head, sending whistling noises into your ears. You turned around, and noticed you were so heated that you're yelling drawn in a large herd of skin eaters. It was way too large for only two of you to fight off. You both began firing shots, one after another, aiming anywhere in the moving abyss. Daryl then motioned you over with a hand gesture, to the end of the building. After running so fast and nearly tripping over old novelty items, you pushed through the door. Neither of you had time to think, or to talk rather, and circled around the building. You both eagerly watched the herd pass around the car, and then made a break for it. 

Neither of you said a word the entire ride back home.

After resting for that of only a few hours, you got up with the sun greeting your eyelids. You fell asleep in your clothes you wore outside yesterday, and reeked of sweat. Unfortunately, the clinic didn't have a shower, so Aaron was letting you borrow his. You crept your way out of bed, and tiredly made your way across the street to his and his boyfriend's house. You knocked over and over on the door, but no one answered so you walked right in. "Aaron? Eric?", you called out, but still, no answer. You decided that if they did come home, they'd hear the water running and assume it was you.

As the hot water trickled down your tired eyes, you thought of Daryl. Even though you were arguing, he  _did_ save your life. You couldn't be mad at him, in fact, other than not allowing you to kill a person, he didn't do anything wrong. It was yourself who caused all the trouble; the skin eaters, the "run", him having to save you-- it was your fault. You decided you should apologize and that you were being irrational towards him.

As you got out of the shower, you dried your hair slowly. Once you took away the towel and un-muffled your hearing, you heard loud crashings of metal against metal. You quickly got into panic mode, wrapped a towel around your body, and ran out of the restroom. Was this the possible attack Rick was talking about?

You ran to the kitchen, and grabbed a knife, staying low to the ground. Deciding to avoid the front door, you snuck through the garage. As you opened the door, instead of being faced with a group of marauders, there was Daryl, cursing at tools he dropped. He looked up to find a knife-wielding, towel wearing girl nervously standing at the corridor.  "Oh, its just you." You laughed quietly to yourself, regretting ever coming into the house.

He just continued to focus on whatever he was doing, well wait-- what  _was_ he doing here anyway?

"So, why are you here?"

"I should be asking the same question," he said, carrying tools to the motorcycle beside the wall, and squatting as he looked at all the interesting metal bits and pieces.

"I was just showering-- the clinic doesn't have a shower as it turns out." You laughed quietly, trying to find anything to fill the silence. He grunted as if that was his reply. You then went over to him, kneeling beside him. "Listen, I am sorry about last night, I was really heated for some reason--", he fiddled with a wrench on the bike, "--and I shouldn't have said or done the things I did, I just got into some sort of mode I guess," he then tightened a bolt, "but you saved my life even when I was being so rude and--"

"What are you trying to say, Y/N."

"Just that, I-- I wanted to get close to you and I really wanted to know you because you just intrigue me and I," as you were continuing to ramble, you watched the tips of his ears turn red, "I just wanted to be by you and I did it in a really, really stupid way."

He looked at you as if you finally understood why he was so upset, and you smiled kindly, wishing to take away everything that happened yesterday. "I am sorry, I am, so," you said quietly as you gently held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. You then pulled away, looking at his eyes, then his lips, "...sorry." 

You then leaned in and kissed his lips, enjoying your bold action. He was taken back for a second, moving away from your own soft lips, but then coming in again. You kissed again, but this time with more desire than sincerity. Your lips crashed together, and your hands traced up into his dark hair. The way you moved though, loosened the towel, exposing your body. Daryl looked down at you, his ears turning red again, and back at your lips. That must have been enough of a motivator because he demanded you sit on the bike. As you sat on the leather seat, Daryl pushed away all his tools.

He kissed your bare body as he made his way down, starting at your collarbone, then between your breast, above your navel, and lastly, on the pubic bone. You moan quietly, not trying to alert anything around you on what was happening. Suddenly, just as you thought he would be going for the kill, he took his tongue and licked your stomach. It was something of that of an animal, but it make your stomach airy. Just as the tongue flicked up, he looked at you. Not saying anything, or making any sort of face. He just wanted to see what you looked like when you were this vulnerable.

Daryl's hands scrolled down your thighs as he lowered himself onto the ground, sending tickled sensations to your stomach. Once again, he took his tongue and rolled all the way up to your wetness, but only inches away from it. He liked to play with his meal. He looked up at you, perched on the bike with only your hands holding you up. Your right was on the wall behind you, the other holding onto the handle bar. His thumbs rubbed the lining of your inner thigh, creating small ovals. He smirked as he felt you eagerly shake below his fingertips.

Daryl then leaned in, to a point where you could feel his hot breath tickling you. He gripped onto your thighs tightly, and pulled you into his face. Instantly, his lips were hit with a wet substance. Daryl then took his tongue, almost like habit, and licked your entire womanhood in one stroke. You formed a fist and hit it on the wall, trying to channel all your moans into that singular thump.

Daryl looked up at you, then attacked your clitoris with violent twitching of his tongue. He pressed his tongue harder and harder onto the ball of nerves, causing you to jolt with energy. You grinded your teeth together, trying to suppress your noises. In one large lap again, he licked you, taking in all of your sweetness that you had to offer. Daryl grunted lowly as he swallowed, almost like you were a savory treat.

His wet tongue then slid inside you for a brief second, and then out. It felt like he accidentally did it, but damn did it feel good. Daryl then took his right hand, and trailed it up your convulsing body. He fondled your breast with it, squeezing tightly and running his thumb across the peaked nipple. You let a moan escape your mouth by mistake, and Daryl raised an eyebrow. You smiled and were about to laugh, but then he took his left index finger and middle finger and rubbed your clit. Hard.

Your body arched forward into him more by reflex, only giving him that much more of an advantage. As he focused on your core, he moved his right hand even farther up, now to your mouth. You opened your eyes, and he poked your mouth. "Lick them."

You were at first confused, but did as told. You leaned your head forward, and took his fingers inside your mouth. You were almost reluctant to do it considering he probably hasn't washed his hands in a while. But, you still licked his fingers, and slightly sucked on them too. He seemed surprised by your actions, as if you've never done anything sexual before.

"Are they wet?", Daryl's deep voice said, breathing hot air all over your sweating core. "Y-yes," you said as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, making a popping noise. You for a second you smiled, but in the next your mouth opened wide and let out a loud moan. Daryl slid his index finger inside you, curling it right onto your G-spot. You turned in forward in one quick motion, heaving loudly. Daryl looked up at you with a concerned expression, not really sure of the power he had with you.

He pulled out his finger and deeply asked, "you okay?"

You nodded and smiled greatly, "yes, oh my god, yes."

Daryl cautiously continued, sliding upward, and sliding outward slowly. Having you express your stomached feelings so loudly made him realize that he could very well hurt you like this, so he tried to be gentle. You liked his hidden sensitive side, but for heated moments like these, you liked his animal ways. They were raw, inconsiderate, and powerful. Filling your mind with more and more thoughts as he slowly played with you, you decided to clear the slate and take over.

You pelted yourself from the seat of his motorcycle with your hands in his dark, long hair. He looked up at you in shock, not expecting you to have a dominant side, and quickly threw his elbow back to keep him from the hard fall. You, however, smoothly slid your fingers from his hair and onto the cold concrete floor, fully encasing Daryl. You leaned down, and bit the tip of his ear, whispering, "that's enough," then quickly you attacked his lips. The rough touch of his lips tasted like you, but his tongue tasted like desire. Before you knew it, your tongue was brushing against his. You took the small break of sexual deeds to notice how Daryl wasn't sure how to act in a situation where he was safe, but vulnerable. His arms were still parked behind the rest of his body to hold him up, and his shoulders were curved inwards towards you. 

Then you realized-- although it didn't seem likely, that maybe, this was his first time with someone.

Evidence wanted you to throw that theory out the window, but the way he acted unsure made you think otherwise. He knew how to eat a girl out,  _damn well at that_ , but he didn't know how to act in any other way. You decided that maybe you taking the lead would be a good idea. In one single motion, your right hand scrolled all the way from his shoulder to his hand, placing his hand on the hem of his pants.

"You don't have to do this, you know," you said, half of you hoping he will make his own decision, but the other half hoping he will be egged on from your comment.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at you with a glimpse of determination, "don't ruin it."

You smirked thinking you succeeded, and as he was leaning forward to undo his pants, you took off his vest. Then, you undid the sleeveless button down. You swung you hands back up to the collar of the shirt, tugging it down his shoulders-- but Daryl's hands quickly shot up from his pants and to your own hands. You didn't think much of it, so you just placed your hands through his hair. Noticing your hands were refocused, Daryl slid down his pants, slightly arching up to allow them to pass his legs. He then rustled them up and off his feet. As he moved his pelvis up though, you felt it brush against your wetness, making you almost collapse in flurried feelings taking over your stomach.

Your compassionate feelings took hold of the reel, and you held him by the shaft instantly. He winced in pleasure, but looked the other way, making sure you didn't see him so vulnerable under your touch. You re-positioned your legs into a squat, and then placed the tip of his hard cock at the very origin of all your wet goodness. You smiled as you watched Daryl fight back a moan; his eyebrows turned inward, and his jaw clenched tightly. "You ready--"

He noticed your patronizing, and then sat forward, holding on to your hips. "Only if you are."

A mix of his low voice filling your eardrums and him pushing you down his length nearly sent you to heaven. Your hot body curled backwards, making your chest glide against his. Daryl's heart was thumping, over and over. You shot your head forward, kissed his mouth and pushed him down with the palm of your hand. "Now you're asking for it," you moaned, and slammed down his bare skin, creating a loud slapping noise. Daryl breathed out, trying to discreetly let out a moan. 

You then placed your legs down from the squat, cooling your hot skin with the floor. You placed your hands beside Daryl's knees, giving him full sight of your body taking him in and out. You moved your pelvis up and down. The friction caused by the angle made his erection hit your G-spot just for a brief moment before going to the rest of your entrance. You could feel the heat thicken in your womanhood, almost ready to give in even though you just started. Neglecting what your body said, you continued to hold on, and take in as much as you could of his length.

As your eyes peaked open, you saw Daryl breathing heavily, biting his lip. You could tell he was doing everything in his control to stop himself from moaning. His right hand drew forward, and brushed away the sweat forming on his forehead, then pieced through his dark, stringy hair. He opened his eyes too, and once you were greeted by those bright orbs, you felt yourself give way. A flush of wet liquids surrounded Daryl's cock, tightening and loosening around him. You moaned out louder than you meant to, and felt waves of tension free from your body. Uncontrollably, your body curled forward and you rested on Daryl's chest. 

You smiled as you felt your head bob up and down from his heavy breathing. Getting down from your high, you noticed Daryl didn't even finish, so you decided to let him take over. Your body was physically exhausted, and probably overheated. 

"Daryl," you panted, "take me."

He moaned softly, and slid you off of him. Carefully, he moved behind you, holding your hips as if he was trying to figure out just how to proceed. He then decided it didn't matter, and pushed himself inside of you. Your heaving chest arched against the cold cement, making you wildly give up control of your tongue. "Oh God, yes Daryl!" You moaned, as he pushed his entire length in you the first try. Hearing your dirty words made Daryl squeeze your hips tightly below his fingernails. Little did he know the pain made you only get more lost in ecstasy.

He continued to push in and outside of you, gaining more speed with every thrust. You could feel his hard determination-- literally. Wet slapping filled the garage with gorgeous acoustics that blended well with your careless moans. Every now and then, Daryl would grunt deeply as he pushed further inside of you. It felt like he wanted to know every inch of your flesh. Something in the way he moved made you want to feel his cum take the time to know every inch of your flesh, too.

"Please, please cum," you begged, not caring who heard anymore.

You noticed his pressure on his thrusts got even  _harder_ than before. Maybe he knew if he came you'd shut up, or maybe he really enjoyed your dirty little tongue. He pressed harder on your bare skin, diving deeper into your wet core, and began hitting your wall. His grunts became much more present as his speed kicked up again. "Yes, yes, that's it!" You moaned, loving the feeling of him inside you. Suddenly his body kicked forward, pushing against your wall, and filling you with steaming hot cum. A loud, deep moan poured from Daryl's lips as he continued to thrust, making sure not a single part of your insides were left untouched. 

Daryl's body collapsed forward on the back of you, laying gently as sperm gushed down your legs. He then kissed the nape of your neck deeply, biting the skin softly. He knew what he was doing; he wanted everyone to look at the mark of your neck and know you were his now. You gave a satisfied smile, and said "thank you". The feeling of his hot breath tickled the hairs on your neck, but it felt so sweet. He said in response, resting against your sweated dazzled body, "that's only for you."

"You, and you only."

 


End file.
